


In Every Heartbeat

by AmelieofK



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Junbobficsparty2019, M/M, junbob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK
Summary: What is the ultimate sacrifice one can make in the name of love? Jiwon thought life was over before it even began and it took someone like Junhoe to make him realise that life and love  always finds it way even through the terminal darkness. You just need to savour every heartbeat.





	In Every Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 of the JunBobFicsParty Challenge 2019 (Theme : Angst)
> 
> Trigger Warning : Suicide

His voice resonated in Jiwon’s head; a husky rasp that was slightly breathy if he took on the gentlest tone. Jiwon could picture him already. In his mind’s eye, Junhoe sitting by the ledge of the full bay windows, sketching or probably in the midst of scribing a sonnet under the warmth of the midday sun was a vision that Jiwon treasured. He was sitting by that same window now, except that winter had crept against the glass, a frosty intruder that brought only cold and despair. Everything in the world adopted the watered down wash of whites and blues. He did not put up Christmas decorations this year. It was the third year that he stopped celebrating it. There were no mistletoes, no egg nogs laced liberally with Kahlua and no beribboned gifts under Christmas trees. Nothing. With him gone, Christmas had apparently died.

There was the thrum of the elevator. Gail coming right on time for the laundry. He wheeled his way into the master bedroom, not really wanting to have company today. He found that his life denied of Junhoe seem to be a terminably miserable existence. As a matter of fact, it almost feels as if he did exist at all. It was probably the wheelchair. It still made people uncomfortable, which was why he avoided going out at any cost. He detested human interaction even from the beginning, because people who recognised him were quick to give him that look. That look filled with pity and sympathy. It was worse with people who did not recognise him. They always attempted to help when he obviously was not helpless.

Once upon a time, he had everything; money, fame and power. He had built his empire from scratch. A kid whose dreams took him beyond the urban, middle-class upbringing in Fairfax, Virginia to the deep, dark underground of South Korea’s rap scene where he had taken everyone by the storm. His raps were legendary and in time, so did his reputation. He shifted from the box apartment of Dongdaemun to a penthouse in Seoul and within five years owned a building where he brought in his own stable of artistes under the same roof. Under Surf Incorporated, he managed artistes, who were just as talented and dedicated as he is, to pursue their dreams. He owned a yacht and even a private jet; gallivanting around the world without a care.

He had been snowboarding in Aspen when tragedy struck. His board had skidded over loose snow, flipped him over mid-air and landed him clean over a tree stump hidden by the packed snow. Winter was definitely not his season. His back was snapped in three places. The doctor said that he was lucky to be alive. He could have told the doctor, thanks and fuck you. The first year had been spent on what he had amusingly called his ‘Gyro Prison’. a three hundred sixty degree hospital bed that suspended him. He already felt dead; when you spent your early twenties not being able to feel when you had to go, you might as well be dead. When he was finally unbuckled for therapy, he went for it like a rabid dog.

That first week saw him back in his ‘Gyro Prison’. He had pushed too hard and in the process had snapped the bone in his right leg, much to the consternation of his physiotherapist, who had quit immediately. Jiwon had lain there on the mat on the floor, gazing at the white bone poking through his kneecap. He had heard the tearing and the crunch of the bone, seen the blood seep through his pants, but he had felt nothing and perhaps that had been the worst of all. Not feeling the pain.

Five years of therapy, not the physical one, there was no way he could walk even with prosthetics; he was clinically dead from the waist down. Five years of mental therapy and him accepting that he could no longer function as a full bodied human turned him absolutely bitter. His empire was in disarray, all the money pumped into his treatment and also filling the suitcases of opportunists out to drain him dry. He made the wise decision to cut loose and have enough to at least purchase himself a wheelchair friendly loft with a built-in studio. He spent most of his days drowning his lungs in whisky.

When attempts were made by his minder for him to see a specialist in neuroscience, he had kicked up a fuss at the waiting room. He had wheeled his chair into a side table, crashing vases even as the receptionist beeped for security. He had reacted so violently that he accidentally tipped his chair over and he fell helplessly to the side. He remembered flailing like a dead fish and feeling like one.

“Someone get me the fuck up!” He screamed blue murder against the tweed carpet of the posh office. There was a flurry of activity behind him, but it stopped or rather he sensed someone stopping it.

“You want to get up?” It was the first time he had heard Junhoe’s voice. Back then, even in his rage, he remembered how deep it sounded; full-bodied and strong.

“YES! YOU FUCKER! GET ME THE FUCK UP!” He screamed, his face positively filling up with blood. A shadow hunkered over him and for the first time too, he saw the face that the voice had belonged to.

“I’ll help but first, you have to ask me nicely.” The face that came into view was perfectly sculpted and definitely created to be admired. Jiwon, however, was in the throes of a helpless rage that was unabated, he could not care less if Adonis himself had bent over him offering help. He was angry and his anger was making him absolutely unreasonable.

“GET ME THE FUCK UP! OR I SWEAR…” He screamed, but this Adonis only snapped his fingers in front of Jiwon’s face, shutting him up and getting his attention immediately.

“Listen. Because I am going to say this only once.” That voice filling the silence that followed with a natural boom that commanded nothing, but absolute attention. “I am going to help you back up, but once I do, the first thing you are going to do is apologise to this lady right here behind the reception counter. Can we agree to this?” He countered. Jiwon struggled against the carpet, aware that his urine drainage bag had listed sideways and that there was going to be a major cleanup soon if he was not placed upright. Adonis clucked his tongue to get his attention again. “You are not answering me. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes, yes we do. Yes please. “ Jiwon ameliorated immediately, realising he was close to tears now. A spill would have been a monumental embarrassment. Adonis moved. He did so in one fast and swift motion. He uprighted the wheelchair and that baby was pretty heavy machinery. Then Jiwon was slung gently upward, effortlessly carried, before being settled comfortably onto it. It was done by someone who had experience with handling a paraplegic. He must have seen the surprised look on Jiwon’s face.

“My late brother was born with cerebral palsy. He was in a wheelchair most of his life. He was nicer than you though. Now, about that apology?” He reminded Jiwon. Jiwon looked at the receptionist, who looked harried by the broken pieces of furniture and looking even more apprehensive at Jiwon now, as if he could get up and attack her.

“I’m sorry.” Jiwon muttered, not quite daring to look her in the eye. The security guards, who had stood by the entrance in uncertainty, were now backing up and out. Jiwon managed an embarrassed wave and an apologetic look.

“That’s much better.” Adonis commented now while he adjusted Jiwon’s urine drainage bag.

“Mr Koo? The doctor will see you now.” The receptionist called.

“Ah, “Adonis sighed heavily, “That would be me. Well, it was not a pleasure meeting you…” Jiwon glanced up as Adonis stood up at his full height. There was something about the way he held himself up that impressed Jiwon. The smile on his lips was surprisingly filled with good cheer and a sincerity Jiwon had never seen from anyone he ever encountered since he lost the use of his legs.

“I’m Kim Jiwon.” He held out his hand, trying for a smile that probably came out stiffly, because he had not done so for quite awhile now. Adonis grabbed hold of his hand, lengthy fingers engulfed Jiwon’s bony ones, warm and effusive in greeting.

“Koo Junhoe.” He stated with good cheer and that was how they first met.

 

~

 

Jiwon discovered a few more beautiful things about his Adonis in the months to come. When he offered Junhoe the opportunity to be his live-in companion, he had looked at Jiwon apprehensively. While he had looked impeccable, suave almost, at the doctor’s office in his tapered long coat, turtleneck and casual pants ensemble, the man who greeted him at the door looked sleepy, tired, wearing only drawstring loose pants. It had only been two days since they last met.

“Good morning, Koo Junhoe-sshi.” Jiwon had greeted him, expecting to catch him off guard and by surprise. He rubbed his eyes and those lips bloomed into that smile Jiwon truly liked. There was no judgement, no pity, nothing in that wondrous curve, but an effervescent sincerity the world sorely lacked. Jiwon wondered how he cultivated it with such aplomb.

“Kim Jiwon-sshi?” He uttered almost unencumbered, as if the sight of a wheelchair bound man at his doorstep warranted no special attention. “I’d invite you in, but your wheelchair is way too extravagant for a small abode like mine.” He added, putting on a shirt and stepping into the sunlight along the doorway. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this splendid and beautiful morning?” He asked.

“Jiwon will do, Koo Junhoe-sshi.” Jiwon insisted, nodding and trying to flash a smile that would at least seem just as warm. Jiwon was sure he failed spectacularly at it.

“Only if you stick to calling me Junhoe.” He quipped. “I’m going to get myself a cup of coffee down the road. Would you care to join me?” He offered. Jiwon nodded. They moved together in companionable silence down the street. People were calling out and greeting Junhoe cheerily and Jiwon was amazed that he knew most of them by name.

“You are quite the popular one, aren’t you?” Jiwon commented dryly. Junhoe laughed and that was another thing that struck Jiwon that day, how effortlessly he laughed. Probably the reason why it sounded pleasant to the ears. He got his coffee and they moved at a leisurely pace into the park where it was less crowded.

“You did not come all the way down here to talk about how popular I am, right?” Junhoe asked, settling himself onto a bench, blowing on the rim of the coffee cup and sipping surreptitiously. For some reason, the unkempt hair made him look less intimidating and definitely more boyish. Jiwon shook his head, resting his elbow on the armrest, one hand cupping his jaw that was badly in need of a shave.

“Actually, I came to offer you a job.” Jiwon stated, matter-of-factly. Junhoe, who was hunched over his coffee, still trying to shake off his dazed sleepiness, sat up, suddenly alert, his dark eyes blinking in Jiwon’s direction.

“Bold of you to assume I do not have a job.” Junhoe countered, gazing at Jiwon solemnly.

“Look, Junhoe, I am just going to be forthcoming here. I would be lying if I said I didn’t do a little snooping before coming down to see you today.” He admitted, looking out to the fields where children were running and dogs were chasing after tiny rubber balls or frisbees. It had been awhile since he was out and the fresh air was great, but he was starting to get nervous from all this open space. “The neurologist gave me an all clear yesterday.” He confessed.

“Well, good for you then.” Junhoe interjected, but Jiwon held up his hand to stop him.

“It just means that from the waist up I’m fully functional. That’s only basically half of a good news.” Jiwon said dryly and smiled when Junhoe got the joke, then started filling the space between them with that hearty boom of a laugh. It felt warm, a feeling Jiwon felt had been missing from his life for the last five years. “My minder thought that my spine would get worse with my drinking and all.” He explained.

“You have a minder?” Junhoe enthused, eyes widened in amusement.

“Someone who tends to my business and estates. He’s a close friend and extremely annoying.” Jiwon dismissed. “What I really need is a live-in companion, Junhoe. And I think you fit the bill.” He further added.

“A live-in companion?” Junhoe said quizzically, still unconvinced. “Last I heard, such a position requires dedication, trust and um, love. People actually call it marriage. Have you heard of it?” Jiwon could not help, but smile at his wittiness. It was exactly the kind of thing he needed in his life.

“There are no emotional connections here, Junhoe. Consider it as just a job. Your remuneration will be ample and the best part is you will have your own room in my house.” Jiwon proposed.

“Wow, you really make it sound so easy, don’t you?” Junhoe looked impressed as he continued sipping on his coffee, eyes lighted at Jiwon in amazement. “No emotional connections. What is that? Some kind of subculture invented by you new age crazies?” Jiwon almost barked a laugh. He managed to stifle it, because he was not sure how it would sound coming out. It had been more than awhile since he laughed. Junhoe apparently saw this. The fact that he was quick to pick up Jiwon’s reactions despite his attempts at remaining steel-faced was slightly unnerving. “I tell you what, Kim Jiwon. I’ll be your live-in…what…company?”

“Companion.” Jiwon corrected.

“Right, companion. But under one condition?” Junhoe requested. There was a spark burning in his eyes. It bespoke of mischief and it both intrigued and frightened Jiwon at the same time.

“What is it?” Jiwon asked, eyes lighted keenly as Junhoe stood up and not for the first time, Jiwon finding his stature completely commanding and definitely attractive.

“Spent the whole day with me.” Junhoe stated, stretching his lengthy legs and discarding the coffee cup.

“Wha..what?” Jiwon answered, a ludicrous look plastered on his normally solemn face. Junhoe was hopping on the spot now and proceeded to do jumping jacks. It was an utter riot trying to keep up with what he just said and at the same time attempting to catch a glimpse of his exquisite face as he did his warm ups.

“Hey, if I’m going to be spending most of my days with you, I need to know if we can get along. Money’s a good incentive and all, but I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t laugh at my jokes. There has to be the tiniest bit of emotional investment.” Junhoe was going on and it amazed Jiwon that he could still speak so clearly without even breaking a sweat, while he was doing push-ups.

“Fine.” Jiwon relented, the shadow of a smile playing at his thin lips. Junhoe stopped abruptly in the midst of stretching his arms upwards, that beaming smile and its matching gaze, lighting upon Jiwon in fascination. “What?” Jiwon asked, perturbed.

“Well, what do you know, he does smile!” Junhoe laughed, carefree and loud, filling Jiwon with a touch of envy. “Now let’s see how fast you can go on that baby.” He said, and with that he sped off, leaving Jiwon gazing after him in bewilderment. After a moment’s consideration, he put his chair in gear and sped off after Junhoe, who was already making good head start on his feet.

 

~

 

The place was bigger than Junhoe had expected. It was one of those buildings with the high ceilings that had been used for warehouse purposes back in the day and then converted into luxury lofts. He saw that adjustments had been made to make it easier and more accessible for Jiwon. There were little ramps delineating each part of the house and there were minimal furnitures to ensure that he had more than ample space to turn and swivel his way around the house. Junhoe felt inadequate and unsettled. He could not imagine how two people could possibly share a space so big without getting into each other’s hair and then realised that Jiwon had lived on his own and that must have felt pretty lonely.

The thrum from the industrial elevator told him that someone was coming up. Jiwon had passed him the keys yesterday night after they ended their day together. There was the one key that automates the elevator and another that unlocks the side door which was only accessible via the spiral metal staircase outside the building.

Junhoe could see Jiwon sweating profusely after he ended his jog yesterday. The batteries of Jiwon’s chair had run out and he had to resort to wheeling the rest of the way. Jiwon was out of breath and Junhoe could see that he had not taken better care of himself since the accident. Jiwon had wanted to leave after the jog, but Junhoe shushed him and wheeled him back to his rundown apartment. Although he could not fit the wheelchair in through his door, Junhoe had carried Jiwon into his apartment much to Jiwon’s shock and detriment.

“Why are you getting worked up? You agreed to spend the day with me, so just shut your trap and follow.” Junhoe had intoned in that voice which promptly shut complaining Jiwon up. “Do you need anything? Water? Or a towel?” Junhoe asked firmly, as he unsheathed his shirt over his head. Jiwon shook his head, driven speechless by the sweaty masculine form before him. Junhoe nodded and then jumped, hands clasping the bar that had been installed between the doorway, which Jiwon assumed had probably led to his room. He started doing core exercises, his muscular back dribbling with sweat as he pushed himself up, legs perpendicular to the ceiling and began oscillating them in a circular motion. He did this for almost fifteen minutes and then he did side pull-ups for the same amount of time while Jiwon watched, completely taken in by Junhoe’s dedication to working out.

Half an hour and a shower later, he emerged from his bedroom, dressed in tattered denims, a Nirvana t-shirt and a red flannel blouse over it, the long sleeves folded above his wrists. The hair was still damp and the fringe which almost covered the brows, made him look like a teenager. It was a far cry from the well dressed young man Jiwon met two days ago.

“Where are we going now?” Jiwon asked, watching warily as he carried a leather guitar case and rested it near the entrance. Junhoe was flashing that gummy grin, the one that made him look like the most harmless person in the world. There was no trace of the beast who had made Jiwon chase after him for almost three miles at all. He carried Jiwon again and Jiwon could smell baby powder on him, it was nostalgic and comfortable.

“Are you hungry?” Junhoe asked. Jiwon nodded. This close to him, Jiwon could run a finger to trace his jawline. “Good. I hope you like soup and baked potatoes.” He added, placing Jiwon gently onto his wheelchair. “You think you have energy to wheel yourself?” He asked, he really was thoughtful when it came to this. He was not exactly babying Jiwon yet at the same time ensured he was not too tired.

“I can manage. Where are we going now?” Jiwon repeated, utterly curious as to their next destination. That gummy smile reappeared as Junhoe slung the guitar case over his shoulder and started walking. Jiwon wheeled beside him amicably.

“It’s a surprise. Just follow me.” The place turned out to be a soup kitchen for the homeless. There were makeshift tables lined behind the old brick stone building and a queue had formed along it. Junhoe had put his guitar aside and took some paper plates, instructing Jiwon to arrange them on the tables corresponding to the plastic chairs that had been arranged there. Jiwon was almost done when one of the man in the queue spoke up.

“Hey, hey man. You are Bobby, aren’t you?” He asked as Jiwon wheeled past him. Jiwon stopped in his tracks. It had been almost ten years since his last public performance. He had semi-retired and no one had called him Bobby for the longest time. “Hey man, it’s you, man!” The guy was exclaiming now in excitement. “I listen to all your shit, man! All of it!” Junhoe had stopped what he was doing, staring at the scene from a table away, gazing at Jiwon closely to see his reaction. “Your shit is dope, man!” He had Jiwon’s hands clasped in his tightly and was shaking it in a grateful manner. Jiwon glanced at Junhoe, that shadowed smile had curved a little bit higher as if he was almost amused by the man’s reaction. He had nodded, shyly as the others in the queue gazed at him in awe. “Yo, Junhoe! Is this your friend? Can you get to him to sing with you later? This is Bobby, man. You got to let him perform with you. He’s a fucking legend!” The man was shouting now, close to tears. Junhoe walked over, the smile on his lips was like a breath of fresh air.

“Alright, the legendary Bobby what do you say to making Benji a happy fan today?” Junhoe asked, hugging the man and staring after Jiwon in awe. Jiwon gazed at Junhoe in trepidation and then at Benji, who seem almost driven to tears at meeting him. The night ended and Jiwon had a new appreciation for performing again. The crowd was supportive and some were singing along to his songs. Mostly, he learnt that Junhoe himself was a star waiting to be discovered; that voice, the one Jiwon had come to admire was capable of emoting and delivery he had not seen from any or more recent artistes that a plan had begun to form in his mind.

The elevator doors slid open and Jiwon wheeled himself in. A tall, young man walked in beside him. He had on a suit and carried a briefcase in one hand. Junhoe, who had been standing by the bay windows admiring the view, turned towards them, flashing that beaming smile Jiwon had become accustomed to.

“Is that all the luggage you have?” Jiwon asked incredulously. Junhoe had one pull-along luggage, his guitar case and one duffel bag. It was his whole existence.

“Obviously.” He declared proudly. “I am a man of simple needs.” He added and held out his hand to the young man wearing the suit. “Hi, I am Koo Junhoe. You must be Jiwon’s minder.” He presumed. The young man was taken aback by the self-introduction and could immediately see why Jiwon was so intent on having Junhoe around him. He recovered quickly and accepted the offered hand.

“Why yes I am! I am Jung Chanwoo. Jiwon did tell me you are…different.” He added and then stopped, eyes widened in panic as he gazed at Junhoe’s face. The smile never disappeared. It had as a matter of fact, widened, displaying teeth and gums that were healthy.

“Well, I consider myself pretty normal Mister Jung. It is Jiwon who is different in my eyes.” He quipped, glancing at Jiwon, who chuckled. Junhoe was digging that eye smile. He had seen it in full force yesterday, he did not mind seeing it more often now.

“Ah~please, Chanwoo will do.” He replied bashfully. Junhoe returned his gaze at the young man.

“If you will call me Junhoe.” He insisted and Chanwoo nodded in agreement.

“Shall we sit down and discuss the terms of employment then?” Jiwon suggested. Junhoe nodded eagerly, sitting down on the leather couch where Jiwon had wheeled himself.

He took out a piece of paper from the pocket of his denims and unfolded it calmly. Chanwoo glanced at him in amusement and then at Jiwon, whose eyes was completely nailed at Junhoe in surprise.

“What is this?” Jiwon asked, blinking now as Junhoe smoothed the paper onto the coffee table.

“This, my dear live-in companion is your weekly schedule. I will be ordering some gym equipment, maybe, to be placed somewhere over there, “ Junhoe swept one of his palm in the general area beside the elevator. “We’ll start mornings with core strengthening and upper body control…”

“Junhoe…” Jiwon interrupted him. “What do you think you are doing?” When his smile disappear Junhoe can be pretty scary, the eyes became dark, unreadable pools framed by brows that had creased together, lips pouted into a smirk that required absolute obedience.

Even Chanwoo commented later on that he did not even dare to breathe when Junhoe’s face turned dark.

“Well, I did tell you yesterday that I have pre-existing terms and conditions as well. Didn’t I?” Junhoe asked pointedly, that severe gaze full of intensity nailed on Jiwon unwavering and unforgiving. Jiwon nodded, swallowing the constriction in his throat. “Good. So, workout every morning for two hours. Soup kitchen on Tuesdays afternoon. I need the second Saturday of every month off for a few hours. I think that’s about it.” Junhoe recited.

“Why…why second Thursday of every month?” Jiwon asked stuttering slightly. Chanwoo looked at him in surprise. It had been awhile since he witnessed Jiwon having trouble making his opinions known.

“Consider that my personal time. Give that to me and you’ll have me on my Sundays off as well.” Junhoe negotiated.

“Done.” Jiwon answered quickly. “Chanwoo?” Jiwon was smiling, looking completely satisfied. Chanwoo nodded, opening his briefcase and taking out a few pages of paper. He passed this to Junhoe, who took it and flipped through the documents carefully.

“What’s this?” Junhoe asked, pointing to one of the clauses. Chanwoo bent slightly to take a look and then gave a knowing glance in Jiwon’s direction. Jiwon knew exactly what Junhoe was pointing to. After the soup kitchen, he and Junhoe had parted ways. He made a call to Chanwoo, requesting him to draw up a contract and to insert a special clause. He had wanted to make an album with Junhoe. Chanwoo had been shocked by this sudden change in Jiwon.

He had known Jiwon before and after the accident. Where before-Jiwon had been full of passion for music and enjoyed life to the fullest, after-Jiwon was completely bitter and had lost the lustre to live. He went through bouts of depression, drinking profusely, barely did anything productive and most sadly, lost absolute interest in his passion for music. To hear him talk excitedly about making an album again seemed almost like a dream.

“An album deal.” Jiwon explained. Junhoe looked surprised.

“A what?” Junhoe scoffed in disbelief. “I am no singer. I definitely have no aspirations of being one!” He added, his laughter echoed across the cavernous space, already filling it with warmth.

“Yes you are. You will sing for me.” Jiwon insisted softly, coaxing, begging almost as if his whole life depended on it. The gentle gaze Junhoe laid upon him was one of the most beautiful to witness.

“For you, then.” Junhoe caved in and immediately signed the document.

 

~

 

By the second month of having Junhoe around him, Jiwon had gotten used to waking up early and starting on his core exercises. His upper body strength grew and he started looking healthy again. They spent their mornings exercising while the afternoons were carefree moments of playing chess and board games, sometimes Junhoe would sit by the bay windows, writing his poems and if he was in a good mood, he would recite them for Bobby, who sat on the floor, putting together samples or writing verses. Nights were for making dinner together or ordering takeout and watching movies till late at night. Junhoe was definitely not averse to cleaning a paraplegic and whatever qualms Jiwon had with Junhoe undressing him to clean or attend to his personal hygiene, Junhoe always followed through without making him feel uncomfortable.

“You ready?” Junhoe had asked one Sunday morning after carrying him out of the tub, drying him and slipping the bathrobe over his naked form, then making sure he was comfortable on the reclining chair. He had offered to trim Jiwon’s hair and shave his scraggly beard. Jiwon had agreed. Jiwon had invited a group of close friends for dinner and he needed to look sharp. It was probably the first time he had actually invited people over after a long time. He had wanted to reconnect with players in the music industry and wanted to introduce Junhoe to them.

“Ready.” Jiwon said, watching as Junhoe sat astride the same chair in front of him, his finely carved features within kissing distance. Jiwon closed his eyes, realising that it was quite distracting. Junhoe applied the shaving cream liberally, first on the underside of his jaw before circling it around one cheek and then sweeping it with flourish under his nostrils. He heard the whirr of the shaver and opened his eyes slightly when he felt the tips of Junhoe’s fingers cup his chin lightly and turning his face to one side.

Junhoe, deep in concentration had stuck his tongue out to one side of his lips, running the shaver over Jiwon’s right cheek. His hands were steady and his eyes narrowed in on Jiwon’s thin moustache.

“I can’t. Stop.” Jiwon suddenly said, suddenly holding one of Junhoe’s wrist tightly. Junhoe gasped, his strength had definitely improved. 

"What is it?” Junhoe asked, wiping his hands onto the towel that he had laid over one thigh just for that purpose.

“I…I…You look good, like real good. “ Jiwon rasped shyly, those eye smiles now becoming a familiar feature on his face.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Kim Jiwon and stop distracting me. I’m almost done here.” Junhoe complained, the fingers grasping Jiwon’s chin tighter now as he continued shaving. Jiwon gulped himself into a silence. Junhoe worked the shaver on the other cheek, slowly letting it oscillate across the same spot for a few seconds before moving back downwards to the chin once more.

“Junhoe.” Jiwon called and there was something in the tone of that rasp that perked Junhoe’s attention. He turned off the shaver and let his eyes settle tenderly on Jiwon’s face. He looked way better than the first time Junhoe had met him. The workouts had made his face sharper and the almost squarish shape of his jaw made him look absolutely attractive.

Junhoe’s gaze wavered when he realised that Jiwon was looking at him with the same tenacity and focus. Before Junhoe could reply, Jiwon’s lips had found his. Soft at first, but as Junhoe responded, he increased the degree of urgency, his tongue searing out from between his lips to invade Junhoe’s supple ones, tasting slowly. Junhoe moaned as one of Jiwon’s hand roamed across his chest.

“Kim Jiwon. What in the blue hell do you think you are doing?” Junhoe whispered weakly when Jiwon finally released him.

“What I’ve been wanting to do since I first met you.” Jiwon confessed, fingers coming up ever so slowly to trace that jawline that had been haunting him for the last two months.

“What happened to all that no emotional connection bullshit?” Junhoe teased him and Jiwon was enjoying it.

“Do you know how hard it has been for me? Granted, I am not supposed to feel anything down there, but here,” Jiwon had nodded to his groin and then pointed to his heart, “this part of me, that is still alive and beating, it had never beat this fast until I met you.” The tears that had collected in Junhoe’s eyes from the moment Jiwon confessed, finally found their trail down his cheeks.

Jiwon hurriedly wiped them, unable to bear the thought of Junhoe crying.

“I hate to say this, Koo Junhoe but like it or not, my emotional connection to you is at an all-time high right now. And chances of it ever ending are at a pretty all-time low.” Junhoe crushed his lips against Jiwon, not giving him any opportunity to talk anymore and that was the beginning of their beautiful life together.

 

~

 

The retreating thrum of the elevator told Jiwon that Gail was leaving. He waited a while longer then wheeled himself slowly out of the bedroom. The sanctuary where he and Junhoe had spent many hours, lying in bed, talking and sharing memories from their childhood. It was also where Jiwon had proposed to Junhoe one month after making their relationship official. Rather than flashing that beaming smile so reminiscent of summer, Junhoe had broke down crying. At first, Jiwon thought he had been touched, but when his tears did not taper off, Jiwon became alarmed.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Jiwon asked, wheeling closer to him as he crumpled to the floor, sobbing recklessly now. “Junhoe?” He cried for almost ten minutes. Jiwon sitting beside him, caressing his hair.

“I’m sorry Jiwon. I should have told you.” He sputtered when he finally calmed down.

“Told me what, love?” Jiwon coaxed. When Junhoe told him, Jiwon felt his world come crashing down on him. He had always thought that the accident was the worst thing that had ever happened in his life. It was not. Not by a long shot.

The paper Junhoe had handed to him was proof of this. It took awhile for the dust to settle and when they finally laid down in bed, Junhoe resting his head against Jiwon’s chest, the silence that filled their world seemed ominous.

“I must have mentioned having a brother who was paraplegic when we first met, didn’t I?” Junhoe asked. Jiwon nodded, kissing the top of his head, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo and not willing to accept a world that would someday has no Junhoe in it. “Junse was my twin. I’m older than him by four minutes. We were premature and we lost our mother on the operating table the day we were born.” Junhoe recounted, not without a tinge of bitterness in his deep voice. “Tough luck, huh?” Junhoe added. “We were both in NICU for two weeks. Junse’s spinal cords did not fuse and the doctor diagnosed him with cerebral palsy. I, on the other hand, was diagnosed with congenital heart disease. In the lottery of misfortunes, me and Junse lucked out so bad, it was a miracle we even survived adulthood.” He mused.

“Your father looked after you?” Jiwon asked, loving the silk of Junhoe’s hair against his lips.

“He tried his best. We were both in and out of the hospital from the get-go. He held on as long as he could. He passed on when we were sixteen. Lung cancer. He was a closet smoker. Never smoked in front of us, but he smelt like tar. Still he was a good father. ” Junhoe recounted.

“When did Junse passed on?” Jiwon asked.

“Last year.” Junhoe’s voice became nothing more than a whisper now. Jiwon, caressed his hair, feeling his pain underneath the boom of his laughter and the brilliance of his smiles. “He got tired of me taking care of him. He overdosed on sleeping pills.”

“I’m sorry, love.” Jiwon whispered, wondering why he ever felt that life was unfair before, when it was fucking him so badly now.

“I’ve always looked after my health, because I never wanted anyone to think I am weak due to my condition. But that last visit…” Junhoe began and then trailed off.

“How long?” Jiwon asked the question that he had dreaded, but needed to know.

“One year, fourteen months at the most.” Junhoe looked up, gazing at Jiwon.

“Then say yes.” Jiwon said now. Junhoe sat up, shaking his head equivocally.

“No. It’s not fair to you!” He protested. Jiwon grabbed his hands before he could go farther than he can reach.

“Is life ever fair to us? What is fair anyway? I love you, irregardless! Marry me! Make me the happiest man before you turn me into the most miserable creature in existence.” Jiwon persisted, pushed, never wanting to let go until Junhoe agreed.

It was ironic that Junhoe’s condition worsened once Jiwon knew about it. Within a month after they officially married, Junhoe started losing weight in an alarming manner. At Jiwon’s insistence, they travelled to America, trying to find the best treatment for his condition. After almost half a year of travelling, Junhoe wanted to return home, realising how futile it was. His appetite suffered and twice, while exercising he went into cardiac arrest. The last one made him bedridden for half a month.

Jiwon became moody, angry again.

The elevator door thrummed, breaking into Jiwon’s reverie. He looked expectantly as it came to a stop. Chanwoo walked in. He was surprisingly not dressed in his suit. He looked pretty casual in a sweatshirt and denims.

“Where are you?” He asked loudly. Jiwon spun around at the familiar sound coming from the studio and it was then that he realised that the whole house had been emptied out and a scatter of packed boxes had been piled near the elevator.

“Here. Just saying my last farewells.” Junhoe’s voice, that deep, husky drawl Jiwon held so dear came from behind the boxes. Junhoe sighed, teary-eyed, opening an untaped box, placing a roll of microphone wires inside. Jiwon wheeled himself towards the love of his life, through the large boxes that hid Junhoe from his sight, through Junhoe himself as he came from around the corner wrapped into Chanwoo’s arms.

“Ah~you were crying again.” Chanwoo rebuked him softly, softly kissing Junhoe's cheek.

Junhoe! Jiwon’s mind screamed in panic, wheeling back into the boxes, spinning through the sideboard that had once held his trophies from award shows and was now empty. He held his hands out and they passed through the walls. No! No! What was happening to him? What was going…and then just like that, his memory, that had been nothing, but a vague passing cloud cleared up and he remember everything that happened as he faded into a ray of nothingness.

 

~

 

Junhoe trudged heavily towards the bedroom, wanting to be sure that nothing was left behind. He walked into the room, standing in the middle of the empty space he had once loved Jiwon with all his old heart could take. The tears that had culminated in his eyes now falling freely as he closed them, diving deep into the painful memories from three years ago when Jiwon made the decision that changed all their lives.

He placed his hand against his chest, feeling the throb of his new heart; Jiwon’s heart. The heart he had given up for Junhoe in the ultimate sacrifice of love. No one, not even Chanwoo had been aware of the plans Jiwon had set in motion when he realised that Junhoe was dying. He had said many times to himself, if not to others, that he could not imagine a world without Junhoe.

_No one had anticipated that he was willing to sacrifice his own existence in the world to ensure Junhoe continued living in it. No one, not even Junhoe himself._

Without Chanwoo’s knowledge he had applied for assisted suicide, drawing up his own paperwork and arranging for the process to be done with utmost confidentiality. When it was approved, he had drawn up a will bequeathing his heart to be donated to one Koo Junhoe. He had arranged for all this within the time frame of three months. Then, he planned their last holiday in Europe.

The doctors had cleared Junhoe for travel despite his weakened condition and Jiwon had brought him to Norway, where they had spent the night lying in each other’s arms in a translucent igloo, witnessing the Aurora Borealis as she made her shimmering and ethereal journey across the whitewashed sky.

“Promise me something.” Jiwon whispered as Junhoe laid against his chest.

“What?” Junhoe had asked, in awe of the spectacular nature’s light show that was being played above them.

“If I’m no longer around someday, look after yourself, be happy and live life with that same positive spirit you have when I first met you.” He intoned.

“Ya~shouldn’t I be saying this to you?” Junhoe said weakly, breathing heavily against the cold. Jiwon hugged him tighter, adjusting the heavy blankets and jackets to keep themselves warm.

“Just promise me, please.” Jiwon insisted. Junhoe’s gaze broke away from the Northern Lights long enough to glance up at Jiwon.

“I will if you promise me the same thing when I am no longer around too.” He countered, suddenly disturbed by the faraway look in Jiwon’s eyes. “Jiwon?” Junhoe nudged him gently on the rib. Jiwon gazed down at him lovingly.

“Just promise me, love. Promise me.” Jiwon repeated, planting light, airy kisses onto Junhoe’s face. The cheekbones had shrunk and that muscular body had whittled down to a bony frame.

“Arasseo, arasseo. I promise.” Junhoe had laughed that wonderful laugh Jiwon had committed to memory. He shut his eyes, thankful for this piece of heaven on earth, of lying here in the arms of the man he loves under a sky filled with the amazing wonders of nature. He could not have asked for more on his last night here on earth.

The next day, they had taken a drive down to Switzerland. Jiwon left Junhoe sleeping at the hotel room, requesting that the driver bring him to the facility which was about an hours' drive away. He had left a handwritten letter by the bedside bureau for Junhoe. In his last hour, he had made a call to Chanwoo, requesting that he come to Switzerland to be with Junhoe and to collect his body. Chanwoo, who had been sleeping when the call came in could only listen in disbelief as his old friend told him the truth.

“Junhoe?” Chanwoo called him from the entrance of the bedroom. “Car’s here.” He stated. Junhoe turned, wiping his tears hurriedly. “Ah~you are crying again.” Chanwoo teased him, striding in and standing before Junhoe, helping to wipe his tears.

“I still cannot believe that I am leaving this place.” Junhoe exhaled. He had refused to have the surgery done. There was no way he could have taken the heart of the man he love so shamelessly, not after the sacrifice he had made.

For weeks after returning from Switzerland with Jiwon’s body, he had locked himself in the bedroom waiting, wanting to die. Chanwoo had stood outside, trying to talk to him. At long last, he slipped the letter Jiwon had wrote and left behind for Junhoe under the door. The one Junhoe had refused to read. When he finally opened it to read the contents, Junhoe was surprised that he still had tears to spare after the many days of shedding so much. Jiwon had anticipated his refusal, of course.

**_Love,_ **

**_If you are reading this, then it means I am no longer of this world_ **

**_This is my last gift to you, treasure it, the way you treasured me_ **

**_Live it, the way you taught me to live_ **

**_Breathe it the way you always have, with the happiness of your love for me_ **

**_Let it beat in your chest proudly, as if you are beating it for me._ **

**_Jiwon._ **

 

The procedure had lasted seventy-two hours. Junhoe’s recovery had amazed the doctors. Within six months, he had climbed Mount Everest and participating in triathlons. No one knew how he fell asleep each night crying to the rhythm of his new heart. Everything he did was with Jiwon’s grace and even though he started developing feelings for Chanwoo three years after Jiwon left him, his memories with Jiwon remained ever fresh because in some ways, it felt as if he never left. Some days, it felt as if Jiwon was right there with him, in every heartbeat.

 

**END**


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